


When You're Sleepy

by Osidiano



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Mori's Sleepiness as a Plot Device, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Sleeptalking, Sleepy Cuddles, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-25
Updated: 2007-07-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3218777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osidiano/pseuds/Osidiano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to a challenge on Freedom of Speech. Mori has a tendency to get sleepy and affectionate in during the autumn months, which the twins notice and appreciate. Whether they are taking solace or taking advantage is hard to tell, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Courtyard Naps

**Author's Note:**

> Totally ignoring the manga timeline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mori finds it difficult to nap alone, even though he's always sleepy. Kaoru keeps him company.

Morinozuka Takashi had always been affected by seasonal changes, especially when it came to autumn. If he stopped moving, sat down by a window, perhaps, or was at his desk too long, his mind would start to wander, his lids beginning to droop. But he could not truly sleep while sitting up, and so he would relax into a half-conscious dream state, eyes open but reflexes dulled and tongue loose. Sometimes he babbled, a trait which his friends found to be most alarming. Mori — as he was affectionately called — was a naturally quiet and somber young man, and to see him smile and laugh like that seemed to go against their belief that he was truly a robot.

Not that he was aware enough to notice, of course, because it was autumn now. His affliction had returned in full force while he sat beneath the shadow of the courtyard trees, staring up at the clear sky between the branches and feeling thankful that it was not raining. Kendo practice was over, but he could not motivate himself to the point of going back to the Host Club. He must have had clients waiting, and Mitsukuni would be worried if he was away for too long. None the less, Morinozuka did not want to leave. It was quiet and peaceful here, and surely a nap would do him some good. . .

He did not realize that he had company until the other boy’s designer book bag fell to the ground next to his hand.

Morinozuka turned his head slowly, regarding the new arrival in the flashes between apathetic fatigue: spiked and styled orange-brown hair pushed back out of the way of mischievously bright eyes; light skin, unmarred by the changes of puberty; the school uniform, jacket open and shirt tails hanging out over the waistband of the boy’s pants. He could not tell if it was the younger or the older of the Hitachiin twins that grinned down at him, but it hardly seemed to matter. Where one went, the other was sure to follow.

“You’re late,” the boy said, nudging Morinozuka’s leg with one foot and cocking his head to one side. It made the older boy think of the way small children inspected something dead; the reenactment could only have been more convincing had the first year poked him with a stick. He would have to mention that to him later. “. . . Aren’t you bored?”

The Hitachiin flopped to the ground next to him, one leg drawn up as the other sprawled out on the grass in front of him. Morinozuka let his gaze drift back upwards to the sky, intent on ignoring his new companion. But this was one of the Hitachiin brothers, and they would not be ignored.

“I bet you’re thinking about how nice the weather is, or what Hunny’s up to,” came the idle comment, slim fingers toying with a newly fallen leaf. “Or maybe you’re wondering what’s going on at the Host Club without you; do you ever wonder about stuff like that? Like, what do people say when you’re not there? Especially the people who you think know you the best. Do you ever wonder if they know you at all? Or if they’re just imagining a different part of themselves, with your voice and face?”

“. . . _Nikujaga_.”

The boy blinked at the strange outburst, looking to the other as if the third year had just grown a second head. Morinozuka glanced over, a small sleepy smile playing on his lips. The Hitachiin boy’s mouth moved silently for a moment, trying to find the words that would not come. Morinozuka continued:

“I was thinking that I would like to have nikujaga after school, once I get home,” he stated seriously, brows furrowing slightly. “Haruhi explained the dish to Mitsukuni earlier, and I thought that it sounded interesting. Have you ever heard of nikujaga, Kaoru?”

He was guessing at the name, figuring that he had a fifty percent chance of getting it right. A tiny sound caught in the boy’s throat, and Morinozuka wondered at his luck. Kaoru shook his head, his silence acting as a signal for Morinozuka to keep talking. The older boy complied with a growing smile, a slight edge to his words adding the tell-tale sign of drowsiness taking its toll.

“It’s made with beef, potatoes, sugar, soy, benito, and onions. Common people fry it. Would you like to try it with me?”

“. . . That sounds disgusting. I’d rather have hot tar dripped up my nose. You’re better off asking m’Lord; he _loves_ commoner food.”

“I’d rather eat it with you.”

Kaoru paused, looking at the older boy skeptically. Then, he leaned his head against Morinozuka’s shoulder, sighing deeply. Perhaps it was a sigh of defeat, but more than likely, it was an exhalation of sincere exasperation. Morinozuka rested his cheek against the upward curve of Kaoru’s forehead, eyes closing. Maybe, with the added company, he could manage to sleep while sitting up. It was worth a try. As he began to drift off, he was dimly aware of the younger twin’s words.

“. . . I like you _so_ much better when you’re sleepy.”


	2. Drowsy Afternoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mori is spending most of his days half-awake, and he's not quite sure how he and Hikaru ended up together that afternoon.

“. . . I am _so_ bored.”

The voice came from nearby, seeming too loud in the still autumn air that clung to the thin shoji screens. Its owner was laying on his back with his uniform tousled from play and shirt unbuttoned, pale skin exposed to the last dying rays of sunset and bare feet propped up on the room’s kotatsu. He was probably laying like that because he knew his companion disliked it, because he saw the faint twitch of skin below one closed eye as he tapped the heel of his left foot on the kotatsu’s glossy surface. A small smile crept onto his boyish features, curling the corners of his lips up on one side. He only ever shared those half-smiles — so much more personal and intimate than the beaming grins he offered to clients — when the two were alone.

“Hey, talk to me,” he prompted the other young man, reaching out to let his hand fall heavily on his companion’s naked stomach, the limp-wristed slap more lazy bravado than anything else. The other teen, a third-year who attended the same high school, did not open his eyes, though he allowed a muted grunt of discomfort to escape him. He shifted towards the speaker, rolling onto his side and flopping a strong arm across the middle of the boy’s torso. It was a sleepy reaction, not at all uncommon for the season and individual in question, coupled with a deep exhalation that was not quite a sigh. It could have been a form of acknowledgment, and might have passed for one in different company. However, the speaker was not the type to be so easily fooled; that pseudo-sigh meant that his companion fully intended to sleep through any meaningful — or pointless, which was more likely — conversation he attempted to initiate. “Oi, Mori! I said I was _bored_.”

But Morinozuka Takashi did not respond. The boy frowned, turning his head to glare at the upperclassman. His glare softened to a hurt expression, frown growing to a pout after a moment of silence had passed between them. He took his feet off the kotatsu, settling them on the paneled wood floor as he pushed the young man’s arm off his stomach and sat up.

“If you’re just going to ignore me, I might as well go home, or — ah!”

He cut himself off abruptly as both of Morinozuka’s arms wrapped around his waist, yelping in alarm as he was suddenly yanked back to the floor. The older boy’s eyes had snapped open at his threat, tension tightening the muscles in his upper body, and he squeezed the younger boy slightly to emphasize an unspoken point. The speaker laughed then, all false pretenses and mischievous acts falling away under that cool, sleepy gaze. Morinozuka relaxed, loosening his possessive grip as he regarded his underclassman.

“. . . What’s so funny?” his words were muddled from fatigue, almost incomprehensible as he whispered them against the boy’s neck, nuzzling. The laughter died down to a childish chuckle, only just too masculine to be identified as a giggle. Morinozuka’s underclassman — one of the Hitachiin brothers, to be sure, but which one escaped him at the moment — rolled over on top of him, forcing him onto his back. He looked up at those bright eyes as the boy straddled his waist, putting a hand to either side of his face. Without thought or hesitation, Morinozuka ran a hand through the boy’s messy orange-brown hair, fingers catching in the short strands. He clasped the twin by the back of his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss.

And was pushed back down with a snicker.

“If you wanted someone easy, you should have gone for Kaoru,” it was a jibe in jest, but Morinozuka’s dark eyes narrowed all the same. The boy, who had just identified himself as Hikaru, jumped up, his hands going to work pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. He offered the older boy a rather suggestive half-smile, a drowsy mimic appearing on Morinozuka’s features before the younger boy draped the shirt over his companion’s face. Morinozuka blinked, a puzzled expression quickly replacing his expectations of intimacy. He felt the heat of Hikaru’s body move away, and heard the sound of retreating footsteps. From the doorway, he heard the ultimatum:

“If you can catch me, you’ll get a prize. But you better make it interesting!”

A pause as Morinozuka removed the article of clothing that Hikaru had discarded, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. He had passed through the day in a sleep-deprived daze, only dimly aware of his surroundings, and realization was only just now dawning on him. Autumn was taking its toll, causing him to say and act in ways that he never imagined. Why else, he tried to find some logic or reason as he shook the fatigue from his tired mind, would he have woken up half-naked next to a younger man? Hikaru bit his lower lip nervously, as if he knew what was going through the other’s mind. He drummed his fingers on the wood rim of the shoji screen door before he ran out, his whispered words hovering in the entrance:

“Don’t wake up too fast, Mori. . . I like you better when you’re sleepy.”


	3. Waking Up With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleepy Mori wakes up to find himself in a situation he's not prepared for. But is it Hikaru, or Kaoru, that he's with? It's not quite what you'd expect. Mori/?.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally earning that explicit rating!

The wooden floor of the dojo was cold against the young man's sweaty back, his shirt and uniform jacket having long sine been tossed aside in a brief and vigorous struggle. Now he had his head tilted back, bangs plastered to his forehead and heavily teased orange-brown hair quickly losing its styled shape as he writhed on the floor. His mouth was open, gasping quietly with eyes wide as he arced up off the floorboards. There was a chuckle from just below his line of sight, his companion kissing his collarbone lightly. _No marks_ , he had whispered almost a half hour ago when the dojo's usual members had left. _At least not visible ones_. The young man did not know if he should regret that decision or be thankful for it as he felt his companion's strong hands loosening his belt.

He lifted his hips slightly to allow the other to tug his pants down, boxers soon following. Freed from its confinement, his erection flexed involuntarily, brushing the solid stomach of the boy above. He shivered, feeling the older boy smirk against his left pectoral, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply as a tongue flicked out over his nipple. But it was quickly retracted, the older boy slipping down his body, kisses trailing steadily southward. Then, all too suddenly, he felt that talented mouth close around the length of his member.

A soft cry escaped him, his own fingers tangling in the other boy's short black hair, nails scraping over the scalp. He felt the subtle texture of the boy's tongue on the underside of his penis, rubbing back and forth as the boy bobbed his head. His lips were soft as they slid up the shaft, the barest hint of teeth catching at the smooth ridge of the head. And then the mouth slipped back down, a tight pressure on the sensitive flesh as the older boy sucked him deep into his throat. He whimpered, tried to say the boy's name but swallowed the sound when the rhythm sped up. The older boy was not entirely silent, either: a guttural moan around the muscle, the occasional wet slurp as his lips shifted around the younger boy's penis, always sounding too loud in the quiet of the room. He swore he heard the boy growl when he raised his hips again, straining for more, but it felt so wet and warm and the friction felt so damn _good_ that he did not care when his companion's slightly calloused hands gripped him roughly.

“Mmm. . . M-Mori—!” he finally managed to gasp through the pleasure induced haze as the third year forced his lower body to hold still. Morinozuka's dark eyes flicked up at the sound of his name, smile and good-natured mischief gone, quickly being replaced by his usual heavy expression. This was not altogether shocking; not even Morinozuka could sleep through sex, regardless of the season. The younger of the two did not seem to notice, however, as his head was tilted back, his body tensing in preparation for release. It occurred then to Morinozuka that the foreplay leading up to this event had been in progress since before they had even entered the room, so he found that he was not quite as surprised as he thought he would be when his companion ejaculated into his mouth.

The taste that erupted over his tongue was bitter, not quite salty, but with a strange texture. It was slightly slimy and stuck to the back of his throat when he tried to swallow to keep the hot fluid from spilling out over his lips. The whole experience was bizarre and entirely foreign, but not altogether unpleasant. Truthfully, the worst part was that clinging bitterness that made him want to burn the flavor out with alcohol. But maybe it was an acquired taste. Morinozuka pulled back, sitting up and wiping a hand over his lips to catch the stray drops that had found a way out along the corners of his mouth. The boy beneath him relaxed, back thumping flat on the wooden floor with a gasp. He was breathing heavily, and Morinozuka took a moment to watch that pale and scrawny chest rise and fall with each ragged inhalation.

"Wha. . .what's wrong, Mori?" the boy asked hesitantly when he finally regained some shred of composure, propping his upper body up on his elbows. He caught the third year's somber gaze with a questioningly glance, the shadow of a smile sneaking its way onto his boyish face. Morinozuka ran his tongue over his lips slowly as he carefully weighed his options, thinking hard before opening his mouth to commit to any given action. A hundred questions were racing through his head, but now did not seem like the best time to ask any of them. "Come on, what's on your mind now?"

"You are," Morinozuka answered honestly as he got to his feet, straightening the waist of his hakama. The boy below him was one of the Hitachiin twins, to be sure, but Morinozuka had never been able to tell one from the other. In the last week, he had awoken to find himself spending time with each brother, always groggy and never quite certain what the conversation had entailed. But was it Kaoru, or Hikaru, that he had just. . .? Morinozuka shook his head, sighing as he silently chastised himself. It was a strange thing not to know, but the name still eluded him. He opted for a less condemning, but equally important, question. "Can I ask why you're doing this?"

"What do you mean?" the boy feigned ignorance, and Morinozuka redirected his attention to his underclassman. Hikaru or Kaoru, whichever one he was, had pulled his pants back up, and was in the process of fastening them. Morinozuka stepped out of the way as the younger boy also stood, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he did so. The boy placed a hand on his hip, trying to cover his embarrassment with forced indignation.

" _Hikaru_ ," he was guessing at the name when he said it, was hoping that he was right when his gaze narrowed to a glare and his tone turned harsh. The boy's eyes widened when he realized that he had been caught, and his mouth worked silently for a moment. Once the moment was over, Hikaru sighed, shoulders slumping and hand slipping off his hip to fall limply at his side. He looked vulnerable, small and insecure, standing half-naked in front of Morinozuka like he was awaiting execution. The older boy got the distinct impression that there was something he was missing.

"I just. . . At first, I just wanted to know why Kaoru wanted to spend so much time with you," Hikaru confessed, staring pointedly at the dojo floor. This was not quite what Morinozuka had been expecting, but then again, nothing in the last week had been _quite_ what he had expected. In light of this, he kept his mouth shut and let Hikaru continue. "I mean, you're a robot. A boring, weird, seasonally defective robot. Why should he want to spend his time with you instead of with me? But then, I started getting closer to you, and —"

"I don't believe this."

Hikaru's head jerked up, his expression a mask of pained confusion. Morinozuka turned away with a disgusted shake of his head, walking towards the sliding door. The brunet reached out to him tentatively, but pulled back at the last second before touching skin. He watched, devastated, as his companion left, the door slamming against the frame as Morinozuka practically threw it shut in his frustration. Hikaru dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to hold back tears. . .

Tears that were quickly replaced by a mischievous smirk and cunning gleam in his eyes. Kaoru dropped the abandoned lover act, hand back on his hip at that jaunty angle as he whistled for his twin. The real Hikaru peered into the room around the edge of the sliding door, mirroring his brother's smirk. They met half-way, Kaoru clasping Hikaru's arms just below the elbow and Hikaru tucking his fingers into the front of Kaoru's pants.

"Think he has a clue?"

"Maybe," Kaoru responded happily, thumping his forehead against Hikaru's, grinning. "But I just love torturing him when he's sleepy, you know?"


End file.
